Remus looked up from his book has Harry walked back into the kitchen. He noted with a growing feeling of anxiety that Harry's pale and distressed appearance had only increased.

'Is something the matter, Harry?' he asked.

'No!' Harry snapped back, mouth tightening. Remus was taken aback, but decided not to press the issue. The two of them sat in silence to a while, Harry staring at the kitchen sink with a rather forced expression of great interest.

'Remus?' he asked finally. 'Can I ask you something?'

Remus nodded.

'What was that –thing—Sirius fell through in the – in the Department of Mysteries?'

Remus slowly closed his book and set it down at the table, a tired look washing over his face like waves washed onto the beach.

'I was wondering when you would ask me that,' he said softly. 'Nobody's quite sure what it is. That's why its there – for wizards to study it and try to work out its secrets. I don't know much about it, but from what I've heard its sort of a portal to the other side – to where the place your soul goes once you die.'

'And – and no ones ever come back?' Harry asked.

Remus shook his head. 'I wish they did, Harry. I wish they did.'

Harry gave him a small smile and turned back to the sink.

One week later, Snape was giving his latest report to the gathered members of the Order of the Phoenix inside the dining room.

'From the information that I have been given, the Dark Lord is going to…convince….his son to join his cause. He was of the mindset that with his son by his side, he will be virtually unstoppable.'

'I see…' Dumbledore murmured. He turned to Charlie, frowning. 'Any luck with the enrolments?'

'None,' Charlie replied. 'No one by that name enrolled at any of the European wizarding schools for the last 50 years…in fact, none since You-Know-Who himself.'

'It is highly unlikely that the child's mother would enrol them under that name,' Hestia Jones pointed out. 'She would know who the father was, obviously, and not want connotations attached to her child if anyone should know of You-Know-Who before be changed.'

'What about the magical quills that record all magical children born?' asked Mad-Eye. 'Surely they would've recorded the name…'

'A magical name-changing causes the child's names on those records to be changed,' Dumbledore said wearily. 'We never had much of a chance of finding young Riddle to start with.'

He paused, and stared thoughtfully into the fireplace. 'In desperate times, one must do desperate things,' he said. 'Remus, Tonks – I want to you round up all information on magical children born within a five year radius of the dates Severus gave us. Then, I want you to go through the profiles and records of every one of them and look for anything – anything – that might link them to Voldemort. Looks, talents, whatever you can find.'

Tonks raised a lime green eyebrow at him. 'That's hardly going to be successful, Professor,' she said.

Dumbledore gave her a little smile, the twinkle returning to his blue eyes. 'Not everything is measured by success, Nymphadora,' he said.

'Good luck. I will not be here to help you – I have several conferences in China and the Middle East that require my presence over the next month or so, so will be unavailable for most of the time. Mundungus, if I could have a word with you outside….'

'He's crazy!!' Tonks grumbled as she and Remus pored over piles of documents that had been illegally procured for them by Kingsley and Mr Weasley. 'How on earth is anything we get out of these going to help us work out whether someone is You-Know-Who's son when its just photos and school records – seriously!!'

Remus gave her a small smile, glancing once more at Tom Riddles magical records which lay on the desk beside him. Tall, black hair, brown eyes, long fingers, best at Transfiguration and Defence against the Dark Arts…good at practicing them too, he thought to himself.

'Do you want a coffee?' Tonks asked.

'Thank you,' Remus said, highlighting several points on yet another sheet of paper.

'No problem,' grinned Tonks. 'I'm only trying to get out of work.'

Remus smiled back at her and began reading yet another sheet. He could hear Tonks fumbling around in the kitchen…the smash of coffee cups hitting the floor…Tonks cursing loudly and knocking the kettle over with her elbow….

She finally returned with two cups of coffee, looking slightly frazzled.

'Sorry it's a bit sweet,' she said. 'I accidentally spilt most of the sugar bowl into it…'

Remus idly flipped over the next profile. 'James…' he murmured, staring wistfully at the picture for a moment, then moving the place it in the 'reject' pile. Photo James waved at him with a long-fingered hand…Sirius had always teased James about those abnormally long fingers. He stared in growing horror and bewilderment at the picture. James had black hair. James was tall. James has been astounding at Transfiguration – he'd been good at most subjects, but especially so at Transfiguration. He knocked over his coffee cup as he pushed his chair away from the table. The hot drink spread among the papers, staining them pale brown. Tonks looked at him in consternation.

'Is everything ok, Remus?' she asked. 'I'm the one who's meant to knock things over here.'

Remus ignored her and stormed up the stairs.

'HARRY POTTER!' he yelled, banging open the door to the boys room.

Harry looked up from his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, startled.

'Why didn't you tell me, Harry, why didn't you tell me what was in that envelope?'

'What – why – how?' Harry looked like an animal trapped in the headlights.

'His son. James is the son. You KNEW, Harry. James is, isn't he?'

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, then said coldly, 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Don't lie, Harry!' Remus leapt forward and gave him a shake. 'I found the picture, don't –'

He gave a yelp and let go of Harry's shoulders as fast as he'd grabbed them – something akin to an electric shock had just shot up his arms.

'I'm sorry, Harry,' he whispered. 'But – is it true?'

Harry gave him the smallest of sad smiles, before nodding.

'Don't tell anyone, please don't tell them. I don't want anyone to know.'

Remus dropped into Harry's chair. 'I suppose…..James is dead….You'd never help Voldemort, and he can't find you here…there's really no need to tell anyone.' He rubbed his temples blearily. 'I suppose…we could ….' He broke off again.

'What about Ron and Hermione? They arrive this afternoon.'

'I'm not telling anyone.' Harry repeated stubbornly. 'Anyone includes them.'